Of Schoolgirls and Bullwhips
by VampedVixen
Summary: Faith, dressed up like a schoolgirl and having fun with a bullwhip.


Of Schoolgirls and Bullwhips  
  
By Vixen  
  
I'd like to take a moment to thank my beta, Dana.

Faith wrung the hem of the skirt Max had picked out for her between her hands. Looking in the cracked mirror on the bathroom shower door, she surveyed the whole effect the outfit created. On anyone else, the skirt and top set might have looked cute, almost innocent, on her it just looked laughable. It was supposed to be the ticket to pure kinky fun and one night to show her new boyfriend she knew her way around the male body. If only she hadn't wound up looking like a two-dollar whore, just like her alcoholic of a mother said she'd turn out to be.  
  
Worse yet, her posture betrayed her anxiety of where the night would end. In school and on the street, she put up a front that said she'd done it all. She was the girl who could have any boy in her class, or so they thought. In actuality, she had been with only one person before and that hadn't been her choice. Just one of her mother's loser boyfriends. 

Still, when Max begged her to wear the anime-inspired costume, she agreed readily, eager to show him she was not just another loser alone in the crowd. Faith could be wild if she wanted to. If only she could convince herself of that before leaving the bathroom in that ridiculous costume.  
  
Max knocked on the door eagerly, "Faith, come on, hurry up. I'm waiting for you."  
  
She looked once more at the mirror before calling back, "I don't think this is such a good idea. Where did you pull this outfit from? It looks like crap on me."  
  
"I'm sure you look sexy." His voice took on a soft whine, enticing her to come out to play. "Come on, I wanna see the sexiness. Can I pleeeease see the sexiness?"  
  
She sighed and opened the bathroom door. Standing there, with her hair in bouncy pigtails, in a schoolgirl's pleated skirt and barely-there tank top, she was the picture of twisted innocence. Only her frown sought to ruin the whole picture. "Max you have weird fetishes. Anyone ever tell you that? I mean, geez, look at me."  
  
"I am," he replied, mouth hanging open. Dark green eyes darted over her breasts, down to her exposed navel and succulent hips, trying to take everything in at once. Running a hand through his black, spiky hair, he swallowed before replying, "And.. just.. wow."  
  
Faith leaned lightly against the crumbling molding of the hallway wall, "Come on, this isn't me. It belongs on Little Miss Innocent." She gave him a sly smile, "Or someone a hell of a lot more naughty than little ol' me."  
  
"You could be naughty if you wanted to," he told her, pushing her against the wall and bruising her lips with a kiss. When she trembled involuntarily, he broke away and stepped back. Touching her arm gently, he said, "If this is too much for you, just tell me and we'll stop, okay?"  
Her pigtails bobbed as she nodded, solemnly. It was happening a little too fast, but she wasn't one to put on the brakes, even in the face of danger.  
  
"Come here." Max led her into her bedroom and flicked off the ceiling light. As Faith turned up the radio, he began lighting the few candles that littered her dresser. The soft light flickered in the breeze blowing from the open window. It made the hairs stand up on Faith's neck; everything was going to change that night.  
  
From his school bag, he produced a long piece of leather that looked like a prop for an Indiana Jones flick and placed it in her hands, "This is for you."  
  
Faith held it in her hands and smiled playfully, "What am I supposed to do with this?"  
  
"I think you know." Max hurriedly stripped down to his boxer shorts and hopped onto her bed, placing his hands up near the leather restraints that were already attached to the headboard. Max had brought them over that afternoon and showed Faith how to use them, how tight to make them without cutting off his circulation. It seemed a bit unnecessary to her. He was already willing and ready. Still, she complied with his wishes and indulged his fantasy, kneeling on the bed as she tied his wrists into the restraints.  
  
Then, standing back up, she looked down at him and smiled. Faith's mother was gone for the evening, wouldn't be coming back for a while, and when she did Faith knew she'd be too drunk out of her mind to know if anything was out of place. They had all the time they needed to learn to indulge their wild side.  
  
The first strokes were light, falling across his stomach. She was still getting a feel for the whip. What did she know about bondage anyway? Still, it was better than being at the bottom. She'd seen her mother get kicked around by her boyfriends enough to realize men couldn't be trusted, whether it was just role-play or not.  
  
When that wasn't enough, Max begged for more through gritted teeth, "Harder."  
  
She changed position, projecting the whip with more leverage. Still an amateur, she couldn't seem to control the weapon. A few times it wrapped the wrong way around her hand and came back to whack her in the face. As time wore on, she began to work up a tired sweat. It wasn't as arousing as people said it was, and she wasn't even on the receiving end. She winced slightly as each thack left his chest redder and rawer then the lash before.  
  
He seemed to be enjoying himself, though kept asking for her to do it harder, faster, stronger. She tried to keep up with his demands, but making sure she didn't hurt herself with the weapon took top priority.  
  
It was during one of his howls that she began to feel something tingling inside her.  
  
At first she thought it might be an orgasm and as it spread throughout her body, she dropped her arm to her side, stopping the rhythm of the lashes. The feeling flowed from the earth, into her toes, and made her take a deep breath. It was as if she were breathing with new lungs. Everything felt new.  
  
She stood up straighter, feeling the culmination of pleasure only to realize that it wasn't an orgasm at all. It was power; this was what pure power felt like. Her hand gripped the whip tighter and by some work of magic, her fingers found the right places to grasp the handle. The feeling faded slightly, but it was still in her, a part of her.  
  
Faith grinned down at her target, the bare chest of a boy who wanted it rough. That, she could provide.  
  
Reaching down into her new power source, she unleashed everything she had on him. She lost herself in the movement, the bond between the weapon and herself. It had been a plaything before, but now she used it for it's true purpose, seeking to hurt and injure.  
  
He screamed, crying out like an animal. Faith could do nothing but grin. She was finally in control of her life; she was never going to be afraid of another man again. The schoolgirl's skirt swayed with her movement, her skin quivered with adrenaline. She felt like a part of the endless chaos of the ancient earth. Where this had all come from, she didn't know. Nor did she care.  
  
Max's hands gripped the headboard harder; his whole body was shaking. When the next lash drew blood, Max cried out louder. The hoarse guttural noise only came out halfway before his voice cut off. There was no more energy left in him to even scream. He shut his eyes and focused only on trying to breathe.  
  
Faith stopped immediately, frightened by what she had done, what she knew she was now capable of. The whip dropped to the floor and a second later, so did she. She knelt on the floor and cradling his head. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked at her with perfect trust. That was the last emotion she had expected to see coming from him, but nevertheless it was there. She brushed her hand against his forehead, smoothing away the sweat and asked, "Are you okay? I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry."  
  
His chest heaved as he continued gasping for air. Through each deep inhale he managed to get out the words, "That was.. incredible."  
  
"You're not hurt?"  
  
"Well, yeah. But it doesn't matter. You're like my bondage dream come true." Max smiled up at her, and she let her shoulders relax, the fear that he was seriously hurt vanishing. He surprised her even further by asking about her feelings. Boys weren't supposed to do that, especially ones that she had almost beaten to a pulp. "How are you feeling?"  
  
She shrugged, growing self-conscious from his concern, "Horny.. and strangely hungry."  
"I don't know about the hungry part, but I could fix that other problem for you," His eyes drew her forward, and she came to rest beside him on the bed. Their lips met, tongues darting forth, and then he surrendered to her touch, letting Faith take control.  
  
It wasn't until a few months later that she knew how much had changed that night. She had become a Slayer, started a new course of life. No longer was she the scared little schoolgirl, she had been transformed into a weapon, the driving energy against a world of monsters.  
  
Eventually she had to leave Max behind. Faith told him that she couldn't let him stay with her and get hurt. He liked it rough, and that grew to be a problem, because for her the fine line between rough and dangerous was blurry and inconstant.  
  
Before the Hellmouth collapsed, Faith told Spike she would seek out the man with the bullwhip, but she could not bring herself to look for him. When she thought back on those first months with Max, she remembered his trust most of all. How he had submitted to her completely, given himself over to the darkness they both knew cradled her soul. He had supported her when she was first called. Faith doubted he knew the source of the power she showed him, but knew he had loved every minute of it. He loved her, trusted her, like no one else had.  
  
That was a mistake she could not bear to let him make again.

.END.

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Written for the Behind the Scenes Ficathon


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